


Of Molten Gold and Frozen Silver

by Arashikitt03



Category: LEGO Monkie Kid
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sun Wukong gets possessed, everyone will need therapy after this, part of my Bluekong au, spicynoodleshipping in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27423013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arashikitt03/pseuds/Arashikitt03
Summary: When they had dispelled the White Bone Spirit from the Demon Bull King, Xiaotian had thought that was the end of it.He never expected for his mentor, one of the most powerful beings in all of China, to be it’s next target.
Relationships: MK & Sun Wukong, MK/Red Son
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got an ao3 account to post this with! Heck yea!!! Feel free to leave comments or whatever, I’m excited for feedback!

When Qi Xiaotian had gone to Flower Fruit Mountain that morning, he’d gone expecting either brutal sparring, grueling physical labor, or, if Sun Wukong was feeling particularly lazy, an hour or so of meditation.  
He had not been expecting to find Sun Wukong hunched over in pain, gripping his head and snarling like a wild animal. He also hadn’t expected to see a familiar bluish-white smoke slowly circling the Monkey king, accompanied by the very worrying sound of small, whispering voices that seemed to fill up the cave. Qi Xiaotian felt ice settle into his veins. He recognized this, he’d seen this before, just a week prior.  
Baigujing. The White Bone spirit.  
He should’ve run. The moment he’d seen the white smoke, he should’ve booked it to the hills, rushed back to the city to sound the alarm for everyone, to save as many people as possible from the oncoming rampage.  
But… he couldn’t. Sun Wukong, his mentor, his idol, was in trouble. He needed help, and Qi Xiaotian would be damned if he didn’t at least try to do something. Slowly, carefully, he reached out toward the shaking Monkey King.  
“Sun Wukong? Hey, um, are… are you-“  
“Run.” Qi Xiaotian froze, the air leaving his lungs as terror flooded his veins like ice. Wukong’s voice was raspy, tight with pain, and each syllable trembled in the musty air of the cave. This thing- this demon, it was hurting his mentor, and Xiaotian felt his heart wrench at the notion. He needed to help.  
“Wukong-“  
“Xiaotian, you need to run. I can’t… I can’t hold Baigujing back for much longer. It’s way...way stronger than before, I won’t last long. I thought, thought that I could handle it, but…” the monkey king gasped as his knees gave out, sending him to the hard stone floor. Qi Xiaotian rushed forward, even as Wukong began to growl like a rabid animal, tail lashing back and forth like an irate cat. He reached forward, almost touching Sun Wukong, when-  
“STAY BACK!” A pale gold force rippled out from the monkey king’s form, sending Xiaotian flying back. He winced as he slowly began to push himself up, a twinge of pain in his side confirming the presence of a quickly-forming bruise. He looked up at his mentor, questions on his tongue-  
When he finally saw Sun Wukong’s face. And every muscle, every nerve ending, went cold as terror crashed full-force into him like a tsunami, sending him plunging into the waves, too disoriented to know which way was up even as he was drowning in fear.  
Dark, empty shadows obscured to top half of Wukong’s face, leaving Xiaotian unable to see the familiar golden glow of his eyes. The bottom half of his face, the part Xiaotian could see, was pale and washed out, appearing a dusky gray-purple like that of a corpse. His mouth was twisted in an ugly snarl, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the cave. But that wasn’t what scared Qi Xiaotian.  
No, the thing that scared Qi Xiaotian was the singular, glowing blue eye that pierced through the shadows of the Monkey King’s face, pale smoke leaking from the outer corner like tears. And, despite the cruel snarl and the tense, aggravated posture…  
That eye was shining with fear. Sun Wukong… was scared.  
Sun Wukong. Who had fought countless demons. Sun Wukong, who had thwarted death countless times, becoming immortal four times over in the process. Sun Wukong, who had gone up against the entire Court of Heaven, and was only stopped by the Buddha himself. Sun Wukong, who was strong enough to lift an entire mountain with ease.  
Sun Wukong, who had saved his life…  
Was afraid. Was terrified of whatever was trying to take over his body, trying to trap him in his own mind. His mentor, his powerful, wise, unflappable mentor was scared, and Xiaotian could only watch in horror as he began to succumb to the demon.  
“Kid… listen… to me. You… you need to- to run. Go- go and warn the others. Please, before… before it’s too late.” Gods, Wukong sounded so desperate, so terrified, and it made Xiaotian’s heart crack in his chest. His throat felt tight as he held back a sob, praying to whoever was listening to please, please put a stop to this, please don’t let this be happening.  
“Sun Wukong, please, no…” it came out a whisper, trembling with unshed emotion.  
“Kid… run. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to- to hurt you. Not when… not when you’ve done… so much for- for me. Please. Run.” Qi Xiaotian gasped softly as he saw tears slowly trail down the Monkey King’s face, even as he could see the traces of his mentor began to leave that one blue eye…  
And suddenly Wukong’s face relaxed, a small fond smile taking it’s place over the snarl, that glowing blue eye filling with affection and kindness and love-  
Xiaotian’s breath stuttered as he stepped back. His eyes burned with tears that he refused to let fall, trembling hands covering his mouth as he began to sob. Wukong cared about him, cared about him not just as his successor, but his-  
Xiaotian turned and ran as fast as he could, eyes screwed shut against the pain and wind as he finally let his tears fall.  
Sun Wukong watched him go, smile filling with relief. And even as the White Bone spirit finally won, even as pain flooded every nerve ending, even as his heart started to shatter…  
He knew his kid was safe.


	2. Obsidian Shadows and Diamond Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sun Wukong, now trapped inside of his own mind, reflects on his relationship with Qi Xiaotian. Revelations are had, feelings are acknowledged, and the Baigujing learns just how far a father is willing to go to protect his kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to be completely honest, this was probably my favorite chapter to write. I absolutely LOVE the dynamic between Wukong and Xiaotian in the show proper, and I wanted to expand upon it in this fic. That’s actually why I made this au in the first place- I wanted to explore the relationship between the two, and really test just how far both of them are willing to go for each other. I wanted Wukong to realize that Xiaotian means more than just his successor, and for Xiaotian to realize that he is just as important to Wukong as Wukong is important to him. They both help each other grow, and they both provide emotional stability to each other. 
> 
> Also, the wonderful @Winterpower98 made some really good art for this chapter!  
> https://winterpower98.tumblr.com/post/632519235166502912/i-cant-believe-that-the-first-fic-i-read-in-this  
> Please go check them out!!

Sun Wukong was falling. He had been for a while now, the pitch dark that surrounded him obscuring any view of a potential floor or walls or anything. At first it had scared him a bit, but now…

Now it was just straight-up boring. One can only stare at nothing for so long before their mind begins to wander, and Wukong really didn’t want that to happen. Especially not after…

Wukong felt the fur on the back of his neck raise as he flashed back to what happened in the cave. When the Baigujing had first appeared, he’d attempted to destroy it like he had over four millennia ago. It should’ve been easy.

But… something had changed. The Baigujing had vanished as Wukong had attempted to strike it, only to reappear right behind him. He’d attempted to leap out of the way, to fly out of its reach.

He hadn’t been fast enough. Before he could even turn his head, the White Bone spirit had flown into his chest, drenching him in ice that seemed to fill his lungs. His vision had become a haze of blue and white, blinding him while insidious little voices whispered in his ears all of his doubts and insecurities-

And then the kid had shown up. His kid had shown up. He hadn’t even noticed until the kid’s voice had cut through the whispers, sounding worried and confused.

He’d been terrified then, terrified that the White Bone spirit would take him over then and make him hurt his successor, hurt Qi Xiaotian. So he’d begged the boy to run, to warn everyone in the city to evacuate. Of course, the Baigujing hadn’t taken to kindly to that, and another surge of it’s power had sent him to his knees.

He recalled, vividly, the raw overwhelming terror on Xiaotian’s face as he’d turned to face him, recalled with painful clarity how tears had begun to form in the kid’s eyes as he pleaded with Wukong, begging him not to go. And when he had realized the fear in the kid’s eyes wasn’t because he was afraid of him, but rather for him…

Wukong grit his teeth as he remembered his final words to Xiaotian, and the feelings that had accompanied them. There was pain and fear, yes but- there was something else, something that was new to him. It had roared within him like a blazing fire, sending beams of light through his soul like a miniature sun, a sudden need to protect his kid-

Wukong was jarred from the memory at that. His what? He’d called Qi Xiaotian his- his what? 

My kid, and there it was, that warm feeling in his chest that screamed at him to find Xiaotian and wrap him up in a blanket and protect- Sun Wukong blinked. When the hell had that happened? When had he become so attached? When had he stopped viewing Xiaotian as his successor, and started viewing him as his kid? 

Sun Wukong thought back. These feelings… they’d been strong during their last encounter in the cave, too strong to be entirely new. But he couldn’t remember any other-

Wukong’s head shot up. The Macaque. When he’d seen Xiaotian being pinned to the mountain by his own staff, the Six-eared Macaque looming over him, he’d felt that rush of protective instinct roar within him, screeching at him to get the kid out of there, to get him to safety, to get him away from that monster-

Wukong shook at the memory, Xiaotian’s look of terror and betrayal from that day had been burned into his retinas. He hated that look, hated that the kid had been subjected to that kind of terror not just once, but twice now. 

But most of all, Sun Wukong hated that both times, Xiaotian had been put in danger because of Wukong’s own shortcomings. His kid, his kid, had been put in life threatening danger, and Sun Wukong had either been almost too late, or the direct source of that danger.

And now he was stuck here in this endless void, a prisoner in his own mind, unable to protect the one person in the world that he cares about. 

“Well, well, well. This is certainly new.” Wukong started, head whipping around to see-

The Baigujing’s glowing blue-white eyes stared out at him from the darkness. It took the form of a thin, pale woman in a flimsy sheer white dress, light blue markings in the appearance of bones marring otherwise smooth, uniform skin.

It looked like a corpse.

The Baigujing grinned, mouth stretching far too wide, showing off it’s rotten gums. Wukong felt ice flood his insides.

“I never took you for the fatherly type, but three thousand years is plenty of time for change. Although, I do have to wonder: why him, of all people? He’s so… immature. Easily distracted. Demanding. Sloppy. The kids… pathetic.” 

Fury burned in Wukong at the words. Yes, Xiaotian was a bit immature, and he didn’t have much in the way of an attention span, but he was a good kid. He was smart even if most people didn’t notice, and he had a drive unlike any that Wukong had ever seen. And Xiaotian was far, far from pathetic. 

However, the fire of rage was quickly doused by the cold realization: Baigujing knew. 

It knew about Qi Xiaotian (the protective feeling started to grow in his chest).

It knew about his relationship to Qi Xiaotian (that feeling grew brighter, hotter in his lungs like a bonfire).

And it knew that hurting Qi Xiaotian would break him (the feeling was overwhelming him, consuming every other thought until the only thing that mattered was Xiaotian Xiaotian Xiaotian Xiaotian-

Sun Wukong was consumed by golden light that shattered the obsidian dark like a mirror, and the Baigujing flinched back to shield it’s eyes from the blinding light. It felt it’s will being pushed back by the Monkey King, his bright white light stinging the dark tendrils of it’s control.

For just a moment, Wukong was able to see. For a split, vital moment, he was in control. 

A moment was all he needed. He knew he wouldn’t last long. Already he could feel the Baigujing starting to take back control, could feel himself slipping from his own mind. He needed to slow the Baigujing down, just enough for Xiaotian to get help.

Enough so his kid could be safe. He would not let him down this time.

Sun Wukong braced himself as he grabbed a sharp rock and raised it above his head.

He could hear the whispers of the Baigujing now, getting louder and louder-

He saw Qi Xiaotian’s face, looking up at him with a happy little smile, eyes shining with warmth and admiration in a memory long past-

Wukong slammed the stone into his knee, snapping it in two, right as he slipped back into the obsidian void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Yeah, when I said everyone was gonna need therapy, I did mean EVERYONE. Yikes.
> 
> Next chapter: Red Son has feelings, Xiaotian is trying not to freak out, and a deal is made. Stay tuned~


	3. Of Ruby Fire and Sapphire Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a break from the Biagujing for a moment to focus on Red Son, who is still thinking about the events of episode 10. Red is starting to realize that maybe his family isn't as great as he thought, and that his feelings toward the Noodle Boy have grown more and more complicated in the week since the events of episode 10.  
> Xiaotian is having a bad time running from his possessed mentor, and it only gets worse when he realizes that he might not be able to evacuate the city in time.
> 
> Trauma is explored, feelings are realized, and both Human and Demon have a decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... so, so sorry for the wait. This chapter was in editing limbo for a while, and combine that with the crazy workload I've had the past few weeks... well, it wasn't the best for this. It might be a while before I update for chapter four, seeing as I have yet to really start it much less edit, but I promise that I am working on it. This chapter is more filler than anything else, and next chapter will likely be the same in that regard, but I PROMISE that we will have some action soon.
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy some flustered Red Son.

Red son restlessly paced the unfinished halls of the new lair, dark red coat silently fluttering as he did. It was a nervous habit of his, something he’d developed fairly recently, and right now there were too many warring thoughts in his head to even think about stopping.

Ever since last week- ever since the event which he’d simply dubbed “the Biagujing Incident”- he’d been unable to get _any_ sort of sleep, mind always swirling with horrible what-ifs and monstrous, twisted versions of hazy, fear clouded memories.

His father- his dear, beloved father- had attempted to _kill him_. His father, for whom he had spent _countless_ nights toiling over designs and ideas and machines meant to free him from his prison under the mountain, had called him _useless_. His father, who Red Son had _devoted himself_ to, who had his _complete, undying loyalty_ , had titled him a _traitor_. His father had belittled him mercilessly, over and over and _over_ again, tearing him down piece by wretched piece and poking at the already festering wounds that had carved themselves into Red’s mind.

The worst part was that almost all of the accusations were true. After all, had any of his inventions ever _actually_ worked? Had they brought them any closer to the staff?

And had Red _ever_ been strong enough, to win one of his fights alone? Had he ever truly even come _close_ to defeating that damn Noodle boy, without the intervention of his mother or father? His mother, he knew, had been the only one of them to actually win in a fight against the Noodle boy on her own, and while his father may not have won that first battle, he’d still come pretty close.

But Red Son? He hadn’t even gotten _near that goal_. Every time he tried to hold his own, every single time, the idiotic Noodle boy had taken him down in spectacular fashion. At the weather tower, at the race, hell, even the first time they met was literally the stupid human falling on him!

And even though he _knew_ his father had only said those things under the influence of the Biagujing, even though Red tried desperately to tell himself that none of it was real…

That seed of doubt was still there. It grew each passing day, extending out it’s roots until they had ensnared him, tangling him up in a web of self-loathing and anxiety. It created in him a sort of intense fear, a sort of paranoia that rose to the surface whenever his father spoke of him, and it had manifested itself in the form of countless, sleepless nights. Of course, the constant lack of sleep had begun to take its toll, and his tired, sleep-deprived mind had started playing tricks on him, feeding into his paranoia in what was soon to become a vicious cycle.

Red Son shook his head slightly, even as the action caused the world to spin in a dizzying blur of color that made him stumble back before righting himself. He could feel anxiety welling up in his chest, making his lungs feel tight as the corners of his vision began to darken. He was shaking, lungs struggling for air that refused to come, and he recognized the oncoming panic attack.

Red sprinted to his new room, slamming the door shut behind him. The soft clicks and whirring sounds of the automatic locking mechanism filled the air for a few seconds as the fire demon slid to the floor, tears burning in his eyes. With trembling hands, he reached into a small pocket on his trench coat, extracting a small, crumpled piece of paper. He fumbled with it a couple times as he tried to unfold it, desperate to halt the overwhelming anxiety rushing up toward him-

It was trash, messy and unfinished when compared to Red Son’s usual work.

It was his most treasured possession right now. 

A rough sketch of Qi Xiaotian stared up at him from the paper, smiling without a care in the world. Even as a small, messy sketch on wrinkled paper, he seemed to radiate warmth and sunlight that melted the icy grip of terror that had coiled around Red’s chest like a python.

He let out a small sigh as the crushing panic began to let up. After a few moments, Red let himself relax, the hand gripping the small sketch flopping to the floor.

Qi Xiaotian. The Noodle Boy. The one who currently wielded the Monkey King’s staff. He had crashed into Red Son’s life with all of the reckless force and chaos of an out-of-control freight train, upending all of his hard work with a practiced ease. He frustrated Red Son to no end, and yet at the same time, Red son had found himself anticipating every fight against the Noodle Boy with a giddy, childish excitement.

It was unlike _anything_ Red had ever felt before. Red Son had been in his fair share of battles, sure, but none of them, _not a single one_ , caused that strange mix of giddy exuberance and anticipation that left his chest feeling light as air that his battles with Xiaotian did. It was _strange_ , and up until a week ago, Red had no explanation for it. None that he was willing to admit, anyways.

But then, The Biagujing Incident happened.

Red Son shivered as he thought back to the fight against the Demon Bull King. He and his mother were crouched in a fighting position, Princess Iron Fan summoning her massive fan as Red Son began to call up his flames. His father, roaring like a feral animal as he was puppetted around by the White Bone Spirit, had charged at them with the clear intent to kill...

...Until Xiaotian, in true Noodle boy fashion, came careening full-speed smack-dab in the middle of the Bull King’s path (Red son remembered feeling an intense sense of deja vu in that moment, and it was only after the fact that he remembered how they had first met). A week later, Red Son could still recall with stunning clarity the odd rush of confusion and _relief_ and _fear_ that had flooded him when he’d seen the young human rising from the cloud of dust, and it hit him just how _small_ Xiaotian had looked in that moment. Standing in front of DBK, Xiaotian had seemed so much smaller than Red could ever remember him being, so innocent and _human_ , and it had positively _terrified_ the fire demon.

It had taken him by surprise. Oh sure, he’d been scared before the Noodle Boy’s entrance: seeing his own father lunging at him like a rabid animal had shocked Red Son to his core, and had become the main focus of his nightmares in the last week.

But there was something different about the absolute _horror_ that had seized him when he’d seen Xiaotian standing in front of the monster that his father had become. It was like getting caught in a sudden riptide, the murky waters of terror dragging the air from his lungs as he fought the sudden urge to run for Xiaotian, to protect him from whatever the hell the Biagujing was going to do to him, to get him away from his father now _now now-_

His mother, _thank the gods_ , had beaten him to the punch, using her winds to whisk the Monkey King’s successor out of the way before he was crushed by one of DBK’s fists. Red had let out a small sigh of relief, relaxing for just a moment, before the frenzied roars of his father sent a razor sharp shard of dread through his heart as he remembered that _oh yeah, the fight’s not over yet._

He’d summoned his fire again, bracing himself for a fight, when he’d heard Xiaotian get up with a huff. Red had felt his heart _drop_ , then, as he finally got a good look at the Noodle Boy.

He’d looked _exhausted_ , dark bruises under his eyes betraying a notable lack of sleep. His dark eyes, usually bright and attentive and full of energy, had a glazed look to them, glassy and hazy and _shit, had the Noodle Boy been planning on fighting DBK all on his own? In that state?_

Red felt his stomach drop as he noticed more and _more._ The dark, familiar shade of a day-old bruise that peeked out from under the human’s signature red headband. The hastily applied bandages that just barely reached out from under the tattered sleeves of that obnoxious bright yellow hoodie. The ever-so-slight rattling rasp that accompanied Xiaotian’s labored breathing and _hold on_ , was he already _that exhausted?_

The fire demon felt sick. Xiaotian had come to fight DBK all on his own, exhausted and at half power and _clearly_ injured. Powerful though he may be, the Noodle Boy was no longer invincible, and if he tried to fight his father alone…

Red would not, _could not_ , let that happen.

He didn’t even _think_ about what he did next: it was like his body moved on its own as he stepped out in front of the tired, ragged human.

“This time, we fight with you.” Terror clashed with giddy excitement in a thunderous wave of adrenaline that sent Red’s head spinning and his heart racing in his chest, everything but Xiaotian and DBK and that warm, electric sensation disappearing as he fought to keep a wide, maniacal grin off his face. It was as if that childish excitement that came before his fights with the Noodle Boy had been increased elevenfold, and for a brief, wonderful moment, it was all Red Son could feel.

Fighting alongside the Noodle boy felt… it felt _right_. Like it was something they’d been doing for years, like it was where Red belonged, fighting at the human’s side (It made him realize how _wrong_ fighting against the Noodle Boy felt).

And then his father had been freed, the lair crumbling around them, and his mother had whisked him and his father away, leaving the Noodle Boy to get out on his own. 

That was the last time Red Son had seen him. 

Red slowly lifted the small paper sketch, setting it on his knees. He knew this was wrong, harboring these types of feelings towards someone who was supposed to be his greatest enemy. He knew that it would only lead to pain on his part.

But there was still something that drew him in. Xiaotian was like the sun, pulling Red into his gravity with the promise of warmth and light that the fire demon desperately wanted, _needed,_ and he was helpless to escape now that he had fallen in (if he even _wanted_ to escape now).

It scared him, just how _easy_ it was to fall. He’d practically been at the Noodle Boy’s throat not even a month ago, and _now_ …

_Now_ , mentions of the clumsy, excitable human made his face heat up and his chest feel light. Now, he wanted desperately to see that familiar bright yellow jacket, that bright red headband, that stupid smile that always seemed to be plastered on Xiaotian’s face, like he lived without a single care in the world. He wanted to be with him, wanted to fight alongside him again, but he _couldn’t,_ because they were on complete opposite sides of the battlefield, and what were the chances of Xiaotian coming to his side?

_But then again,_ a small voice whispered in the back of his head, _that’s not the only option now, is it?_

It was tempting. It was so, _so_ tempting, to just leave it all behind. To cut himself off from his parents, to get away from that paranoia and anxiety and _insecurity_ and just leave the cold shadows to bask that golden light that Xiaotian had in spades.

Red Son shoved the sketch into his pocket and pushed himself up to stand. These thoughts, these _ideas,_ they were the _exact_ reason his father had called him traitor. They were unacceptable, they were wrong, and to pay them _any_ heed was to betray his family and bring dishonor upon himself. It would be best, both for him and his family, if he just forgot about this stupid crush and moved on with his life.

His throat felt tight as he opened the door. Silence shrouded him like a blanket, making his shoulders slump. An unbearable sadness overwhelmed him, cold and heavy and the antithesis to what Red knew he ~~needed~~ wanted, but there was nothing he could do about it in the long run. He and Xiaotian were enemies: nothing more, nothing less. And he was fine with that.

Still, as Red Son left the new lair (making sure to cover his fiery hair with his hoodie), he couldn’t help but wonder...

... _Would it really be so bad, to prove his father right?_

————————— ————————— —————————

His lungs burned. They had been for a while now. As did his legs, and his feet, and the side where he’d been flung to the ground by his-

Xiaotian shook himself as he continued to run. Now was not the time to think about that. If Xiaotian thought about that _now,_ then he’d start crying again, and that would make it harder for him to run, and he _couldn’t_ slow down now, because he wouldn’t get to the city in time if he did, and then it would be his fault _his fault-_

Xiaotian stumbled over something- a large root, a rock, he couldn’t tell. His face met the dirt, and immediately blood started gushing from his nose. _Shit._

He pushed himself up and started running again. He was so close, he was almost to the city, he needed to get there _now,_ please he needed _to warn everyone-_

The tortured screams of his mentor echoed in his ears on a never-ending loop, drilling into his brain and sending his heart racing in a staccato rhythm that set his teeth on edge. He was forced to watch as Wukong’s bright golden eyes slowly bled into a cool light blue, draining of every emotion and semblance of sanity until there was nothing but rage and _terror_ , going in a seemingly endless loop that became more _twisted,_ more divorced from reality, with each incarnation. It was driving Xiaotian insane as his heart thumped in time with the sounds of his own footfalls, like the steady beat of a war drum.

He’d heard the polyvocal scream, way back up on the mountain. He’d heard the familiar sound of a bone snapping as well, the large crack echoing through the valley louder than a gunshot, and while Xiaotian had hoped, had _prayed_ to whoever the hell was listening that it wasn’t what he’d thought it was…

_Why_ had he looked back? _Why_ had he looked back, then, when he _knew_ of the horror that would await him?

He didn’t think he’d ever get the image of bright white bone tearing through bloody skin and fur from his mind, nor animal snarl that twisted his mentor’s face into an unrecognizable monster.

It was wrong. It was wrong, _wrong, wrong._

Wukong was _hurt,_ he had been injured, and Xiaotian had no idea why or how but at least it had slowed the rampaging Monkey King down.

It was getting harder to breathe through his nose. At least the bleeding had stopped, he noted vaguely.

Wukong had screamed after him again, but it wasn’t Wukong’s voice that time, no, it was an awful, bone chilling, rasping _screech_ that sent Xiaotian’s heart into his throat and turned his blood into ice. He could nearly feel the pop as his mentor’s jaw had dislocated into a deep, gaping maw that would haunt his nightmares for years to come, and _that_ had been the thing that had sent Xiaotian scrambling away at an even faster pace than before.

The Biagujing- it was tearing Wukong’s body apart, it would continue to do so until he was too mangled to be of any use, and then it would dump him to look for a new host to torment. But first, first it would attack the city, _obliterate_ it with all of Wukong’s impossible strength and _none_ of his restraint, and Xiaotian _could not let that happen._

He knew, in some dark part of his head, that he’d have to face Wukong eventually. That he’d have to fight back. After all, even if he did manage to evacuate everyone in time, there was no guarantee that Wukong would stop there. Eventually, Xiaotian would have to fight.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to win this time.

Terror pounded in his head like a war drum. Every shadow looked like a demon, every wisp of blue that flashed across his vision sent a bolt of dread through him. The wind howled in his ears like tortured screams, setting his nerves alight with horror as he ran. Even still, Xiaotian refused to look back, for fear that he would see empty blue eyes staring back.

By the time he could finally see the edge of the city, Xiaotian’s nerves were raw and frayed, his lungs burning like they were on fire. There was no time to stop though. The possessed White Bone Spirit couldn’t be that far behind, and there were so many people he needed to get out…

If they’d even believe him in the first place. Xiaotian skidded to a stop at that. _Would_ anyone believe him? Most people didn’t even believe that the Monkey King even _existed_ in the first place: how would _he_ , a mostly normal teenager, be able to convince the _entirety_ of the city that not only was Sun Wukong _real,_ but was also possessed by a demon and was heading to the city to destroy it? How would he be able to evacuate everyone in time?

Xiaotian began to run again with a renewed urgency. He needed a plan, _now,_ or Wukong would end up killing _millions_ of innocent people, but terror overwhelmed every other thought until it consumed Xiaotian in a gaping black maw, he couldn’t _breathe-_

Xiaotian’s train of thought was abruptly derailed when he slammed into someone at full speed, bowling whoever it was over and sending Xiaotian himself skidding a good few feet in the dirt. He gasped in pain as his already bruised side slammed into the ground, no doubt aggravating the injury even more. He winced as he sat up, head spinning slightly. His nose was bleeding again, the metallic taste flooding his mouth and he felt _sick-_

“I ought to burn you to a crisp, you filthy peasant! Look what you did to my coat! How dare you- wait a minute. Qi Xiaot- I mean, Noodle Boy? What are you doing here?” Xiaotian froze as dread flooded him. He looked up.

The dark Ruby eyes of Red Son stared down at him through small, dark spectacles.

—————- —————- ————— —————-

_Of course,_ he’d run into the one person he’d been trying to avoid. Of course he had.

Red Son stared down at Xiaotian through the cracked glass of his spectacles, frustration blurring into concern. The human looked like a mess, covered in dirt and leaves and- was that _blood_ on his jacket? His dark brown hair stuck out in several odd angles, with branches and bits of grass and leaves poking out here and there. His trademark yellow jacket was torn in several places, stained with dirt and yep, that was _definitely_ blood. Xiaotian’s face and hands were littered with small cuts and bruises, and a small trickle of blood was flowing steady from his nose.

What caught Red off guard was the _look_ in his eyes. They were wide, pupils pin pricked with a sort of paranoid terror, like he was being hunted by some great invisible predator. They were haunted, looking through Red Son to something that only the human could see.

It made something in his gut clench, seeing that look on Xiaotian. It reminded Red of war refugees, with their wide eyes that weren’t seeing anything that was truly there, lost in a world ravaged first by fire, then machine gun rounds, then missiles. It was a look that spoke of horrific, _monstrous_ things, things that would take even the most resilient of men and empty them until they were nothing more than husks, their spirits broken by the relentless waves of death and destruction.

It was a look that Xiaotian _never_ should’ve had to wear, but here he was now, right in front of Red Son, beaten up and covered in dirt and bruises and cuts that he did not know the origins of.

Red Son was shaken from his musings when the Noodle Boy had jumped up, one hand reaching back for the staff and the other hand reaching out flat in front of him. He had already started to back away, and Red Son was struck again by just how _haggard_ the usually energetic boy looked then.

“Listen Red Son. I’m not here to fight right now, ok? I know you probably wouldn’t give a damn-“ Red felt a small shock at that, he’d never heard the Noodle Boy cuss- “-but, there’s a very powerful demon heading toward the city, and I don’t know if I’ll have enough time-“

Red reached out in what he hoped was a placating gesture. The human sounded absolutely _terrified_ , voice shaking and rushed, like he was desperate for Red to understand. It worried him, in part because whatever the hell Xiaotian had been running from…

It must’ve been _powerful,_ to be able to scare the usually fearless human like this.

He dared to take a step closer.

“Noodle Boy, what’s going on?” He asked softly, voice quiet and low, the same tone his mother had used after his father had been sealed away.

Xiaotian lowered the staff slightly, still gripping it tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. His shoulders relaxed slightly and his breathing (which had been bordering on hyperventilating) slowed.

His eyes remained wide and haunted, filled with a pain and hopelessness and _loss_ that was too, _too_ familiar to the fire demon.

“The White Bone Spirit.” Ice flooded Red Son, forcing him back into a memory poisoned by white smoke and nightmarish whispers that tore him apart, _limb from limb_ , he could hear his father’s roars and his mother’s _screams_ as a bony face filled his vision with a scream-

He felt a warm weight on his shoulder, and suddenly the grinning white skull vanished to reveal Xiaotian’s golden-brown eyes, filled with clear concern. He was close enough that Red could make out the details of his face, every small scar (since when did Xiaotian have scars?), every little eyelash, the slight bend at the bridge of his nose where it had been broken. The weight on his shoulder, Red Son realized, was Xiaotian’s hand, and even through his trench coat he could feel his thumb rubbing gently back and forth. It took all of his willpower not to lean into the touch.

“Um… are- are you-“

Red Son realized he’d been staring and leapt back, face flushing bright pink. His heart pounded as his mind flooded with images of Xiaotian, those beautiful eyes and-

“I-I-I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine!” Red’s voice warbled, a few octaves higher than usual as he shook his head trying to dispel his thoughts. He’d been _so close,_ Xiaotian had been _right there,_ and it had felt so _nice…_

And then he remembered _why_ Xiaotian had been so close, and that warm fuzz that had started to fill his head and chest was doused with cold dread. He looked back at Xiaotian.

“More importantly, you… you said something about the White Bone Spirit? What- what happened, exactly? Did-“ Red Son gulped, taking a deep breath to attempt to steady himself- “Did it possess someone?”

Xiaotian flinched as though he’d been struck. Empty pain and despair filled the human’s eyes, and he sank to his knees as his shoulders began to shake with barely restrained sobs. Red felt his stomach sink as Xiaotian nodded.

“I- I went up to- to Fl-flower Fruit Mountain, this morning, to- to train, a-and…” Red felt sick as he realized what the human was going to say.

“It- it got to- it got to Wukong, and… I wasn’t- I- I wasn’t…” Xiaotian broke down, quiet gasps and sobs wracking his body.

Red couldn’t breathe. Terror crashed through him like a tsunami, and he was choking on the memory of a furious roar and glowing blue eyes. His father had been hard enough to fight already, and that was even with the help of his mother _and_ Xiaotian.

Wukong was at least _three times_ as powerful as DBK.

And now he was possessed by the same demon that had turned his father into a raging, insane beast, hellbent on destroying anything in his path.

He stared down at Xiaotian. A small part of him cried out that this was a bad idea, that he should turn around and let the human face this himself, that Red should just let this play out without interfering.

But there was another, far larger part of him that _ached_ at the sight of Xiaotian, broken and beaten and _hurt_ and nothing like what Red _knew_ he should be. It reminded him that this crazy, excitable, beautiful human with a heart of gold had saved him from a similar fate not even a week prior, and had done so without so much as a second thought.

It reminded him of that small, wrinkled piece of paper in his pocket, that somehow contained all the light in Red Son’s world.

He _knew_ that Xiaotian would have to fight Wukong eventually. He could guess that the great Monkey King was heading toward the city.

He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Xiaotian planned to fight Wukong alone. For all his strength and skill and power, Xiaotian was still no match for the Monkey King: he lacked experience, and the full scope of his powers had been locked away.

He would _die_ if he tried to face Sun Wukong all on his own.

Red Son _could not let that happen._

He didn’t give himself a chance to reconsider. He extended his hand, reached out for the human to take it. His soul felt like it was laid bare, that hidden part of him that had been growing louder and brighter finally uncovered by the light of his sun.

Xiaotian looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, fresh tear tracks staining his cheeks and blood on his lips from where his nose had been bleeding, and for just a moment, Red Son felt whole. Like all his failures, his mistakes, his flaws, no longer mattered.

Like he was _worth something._

~~(Like he was worth being loved)~~

And it was with that final thought that Red Son reached out to his enemy-turned-rival-turned-something else, one hand gripping the small sketch still in his pocket, and said,

“Let me help.”


End file.
